


Too Early

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Small crisis, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked down and around and clasped a hand over his mouth. </p>
<p>How the ever-loving-fluff had he managed to get into Phil’s room, climb under Phil’s covers, and almost fall asleep in Phil’s bed to the sound of Phil’s breathing—</p>
<p>Oh. Oh shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dan knew that he’d stayed up way too late when the words started swimming in schools of fish across his screen. The flat was so quiet and his back was sore from sitting for so long. How was it that, being an employee of the Internet and working a job that simply required him to be himself on his own terms, made him stay up into the dark of the night stuck in horrendous and unhealthy positions? He blinked a couple of times and brought his hands up to his face.

Well, that was a lie. In all honesty, he was simply a lazy nerd.

It had been a good day, though. He hadn’t been stressed or worried or overwhelmed with all the bloody projects and events that he and Phil had taken on these past few months. Actually, he had been able to spend the whole day with Phil just doing nothing.

It had been the best thing he’d done for weeks.

Phil had made breakfast (two bowls of perfectly portioned cereal), and they had curled up on the couch to watch _Castle in the Sky_ from Dan’s Ghibli set that Phil had bought him.

They had taken the train to Tesco in the afternoon. Despite the vast array of food choices that Dan could never decide on and that Phil had to coax him through, Dan really liked doing the shopping. After a while, it had a sort of orderliness to it. Eggs, Apples, Shreddies, Lactose-Free for Phil, biscuits, bananas, (“Did we get eggs, Dan?” “Yes, Phil. It was the first thing you put in the cart.”).

Everything had been so normal; Calm and just…good. The only thing that had been a bit abnormal was when, upon crossing the street to get to the flat, a small girl had escaped the watch of her father and had gone running into the street.

In front of a speeding taxi.

It was like a movie—a bizarre, incredibly terrifying, too-real movie. And all Dan and Phil could do was watch.

In a split second, the father had raced into the street, grasped onto the girl, and had gone rolling safely to the other side with her in his arms. The whole event had been quite traumatic, but it turned out alright.

Dan’s eyes were glued to the pair as the father held onto the now crying girl—his head buried in her wild hair. In that split second, he could have completely lost her.

Dan noticed that he had stopped breathing momentarily.

Dan also noticed that, in all the turmoil, he had taken Phil’s hand in his own and was holding on tightly. He was warm, and grounded, and, well, safe. This hadn’t happened since…

Dan shook his head to clear his groggy brain and narrowed his eyes at the obscure news website.

The words just seemed to swim faster.

He sighed. Really, he had no one to blame but himself. Even with the radio show tomorrow, researching for Internet News just hadn’t been on his agenda today. Well, it should have been on his agenda, but playing Mario Kart and delving into that new book that he had bought on the “Art of Meaning-Making through The Internet” had just seemed much more important after he and Phil had gotten home. Well, not important—easier; Easier to focus on the trivial than the massively confusing. That being, whatever the big knot in his stomach was hat had developed earlier that day.

_Jesus, man. Sort out your priorities._

As the two of them had continued down the street that afternoon, steps falling in unison on the pavement, neither one of them had let go. Their hands had stayed intertwined. Dan had looked, once, to see Phil’s eyes crinkle and his lip curve upward slightly in a soft smile. And Dan had let it happen.

Only once they had reached the bottom of the steps leading up to their flat had Dan wrenched his hand away. It was so private, so intimate, to hold hands—and to continue to do so all the way up to the place he called home.

What would it mean if they had walked in like that—all joined and comfortable and grinning? It wouldn’t have meant anything, would it have?

Did he _want_ it to mean something?

Dan groaned and tried to shush his brain. It was too goddamn late for this shit.

He looked up at the corner of his screen.

_Scratch that_. It was too goddamn early for this shit.  

In a rush of sudden movement, Dan had closed his laptop and stood up gingerly from the couch. His legs screamed in protest and his back just about gave out and Dan filled up the flat with an immense yawn. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. His limbs seemed to move of their own accord.

_Zombie Dan strikes again._

Dan’s feet dragged across the floor, through the lounge, through the flat. He couldn’t be bothered by the darkness (even if he was now completely vulnerable to sneaky demons). His eyelids were already drooping when he pushed open his door.

Screw bedtime routines. Dan basically flopped into bed and pulled up the covers. Everything was warm and soft and Phil’s breathing was like waves on the beach—slightly muffled as if through an ocean-side window. Easing. Dan was succumbing to his exhaustion like an elephant that had just been hit with a tranquilizer; two more seconds and he would be down for the count—

_Hold up._

Dan’s eyes snapped open so fast that it almost hurt. He dared not move. Everything had gone alert and uncomfortably stiff.

Where was he? Dan squinted to adjust to the blackness. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Dan raised his head slightly.

Through the small crack in the door, the light illuminated a strip of carpet, a dresser, and what looked like a green-and-blue plaid duvet—

“Um.” It came out as a squeaky whisper, and Dan’s heart quickened.

He looked down and around and clasped a hand over his mouth.

How the ever-loving-fluff had he managed to get into Phil’s room, climb under Phil’s covers, and almost fall asleep in Phil’s bed to the sound of Phil’s breathing—

_Oh. Oh shit._

One could assume that Dan would have been able to put everything together much quicker than he had in that moment. One could even assume, that Dan, being Dan, would have righted the wrong completely (though very awkwardly so) by immediately jumping out of Phil’s bed, waking Phil, yelling an excuse, and then never mentioning it again.

And Dan probably _would_ have done just that.

The problem was, that in the exact moment that Dan’s nerves were screaming at him to _get the fuck out of his best friend’s bed_ , an arm reached over Dan, wrapped around his torso, and pulled him comfortably against the chest of said best friend.

“Mmmph.” A noise Dan had never thought he would ever make in the presence of a platonic mate escaped his mouth. He was pressed flush against Phil. Phil’s chest rose up and down and a stubbly chin brushed against the back of Dan’s neck. He shivered.

And it felt so freaking good.

This was the worst thing that could ever have possibly happened to him in the whole of his shitty career as a human being.

What made matters worse was that, actually, he was so tired. And Phil’s bed was so warm. And, maybe, it couldn’t be so bad if Dan just gave into the situation…

But Dan had always been the victim of Fate’s worst pranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for the read :)
> 
> If you care to do so, pleas leave a comment! Always appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Empty words rushed around in his head. There was no room to think. Literally, all of the room had disappeared because Dan’s whole body was being enveloped by Phil’s and there was _no room_.

Dan’s mind did laps as his eyelids glued themselves back down

He felt as if he was slowly sinking into a giant marshmallow. Warmth spread through his limbs and fogged up his brain. Breathing became easier. The ups and downs of Phil’s chest pressed against his back and _oh my god did Phil always smell this good?_

Dan let his head fall further into the pillows. Dan got so comfortable, that he began slowly wiggling himself closer to Phil, completely eradicating any space between them that there could have possibly been. Dan ignored his brain screaming about the weirdness of the situation, how completely off it was. There was no way for him to escape this, especially not when morning came.

Dan sighed quietly. He felt the warmth rush through his body, and for some reason, he just wanted _more_. He wanted more heat, more security. He wanted to wrap Phil around him like a blanket and press his face into the crook of Phil’s neck and press his body down and—

_Woah there, Dan._

Blame it on early morning brain. Sleep deprived brain. Human touch deprived Dan.

Well, It had been a while…since he’d indulged in anything longer than brief hug or shoulder squeeze. Jesus.

Who needed sleeping pills when you could just have a warm Phil holding you? Dan snuggled further under the duvet and pushed his thoughts aside. Everything was calming down. Really, all he needed was sleep. So what if he’d mixed up the rooms in his mind? So what if he didn’t really want to leave? This was just fine. He’d deal with any…awkwardness in the morning. Wait until morning…

For a good 30 minutes, the two slept easily, succumbing to the dark.

And then Phil moved.

Dan felt a shift. His brain stirred, his body stiffened slightly. He had been dreaming, and was slowly being pulled out of it like holding onto a line that was guiding him though water. He felt fuzzy and light-headed.

Behind him, Phil was drowning in contentedness. He was floating, and yet grounded at the same time. His body took over, and he was drawing Dan closer to him, pressing his body wholly against his own.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Phil brought his lips to Dan’s left ear. He hovered for a moment, as though deciding if, in his dream-like state, he would be allowed to do something like that. And then, Phil pressed his lips onto Dan’s soft skin. On his left ear. So lightly that it was like a whisper—something intelligible, but perfect.

Dan felt gentle lips on his ear and then lips press into the back of his head.  Hands started to splay out on his front, lightly skimming over his chest and stomach.  Everything was tingly and heat bloomed in his lower stomach. His whole body became slowly live-wired, but his consciousness could not breach total awareness. Eyes closed, Dan twisted around in Phil’s arms. His lips found Phil’s neck and he pressed himself into it. They were now touching completely—sandwiched together, melting into each other’s touch.

Dan kissed Phil’s Adam’s apple and Phil brought his hands up into Dan’s hair, completely mussing it. Dan brought his own hands up to Phil’s chest. He felt Phil’s heart pick up speed as Dan trailed his lips over Phil’s skin—his cheeks, his nose, ears. Right under Phil’s right ear was this soft spot where the jaw began. Dan just couldn’t resist. He’d never explored anyone like this before. Under his hands and mouth, Phil felt so alive and bursting with a newfound energy that Dan just couldn’t describe. Granted, he was so tired and his eyes wouldn’t even open, but he couldn’t stop now.

Their limbs slid together effortlessly. Goosebumps erupted up Dan’s arms and neck and he felt Phil shiver slightly. Sensory overload sent his nerves shooting through the roof. His blood boiled and rushed through his veins.

His lips found Phil’s, and Dan saw stars.

Their breathing increased and their chests pressed against each other. Hands everywhere, eyes glued shut. They had fallen into a timeless bliss.

Kissing Phil was as easy as talking to him, Dan found himself thinking. Phil’s mouth coaxed his, jabbing carefully up and down as Dan’s head followed. They were kissing, and Dan could never have imagined it ever feeling this good.

The mattress under them dipped and creaked. Dan was lying slightly on top of Phil—getting as comfortable as he could. Phil’s hands came up to Dan’s back and rubbed up and down. They came slightly up and under Dan’s shirt hem, which, in his zombie mode, he had completely forgotten to take off.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Dan pulled on Phil’s bottom lip and they both moaned; A low sound escaping from Phil and something more breathy coming from Dan. Their legs tangled and Phil’s mouth fell open under Dan’s and there was no going back now.

Kissing. What a fucking fantastic thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaannnddd...we're back! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I'm incredibly overjoyed to see the response that this fic is getting. Thank you thank you! Super pumped. Hopefully, the wait won't be long for the next chapter; I'm most likely going to be wrapping this one up soon, so stay tuned :)


	3. Chapter 3

Dan dumped the grocery bags on the counter.

The milk sloshed in its bottle and the crisp bag escaped the billowy plastic confines as Dan swept out of the kitchen. He kicked his shoes off and shed his jacket in the hall, not bothering to empty his pockets with his phone and wallet.

“Phil?” The flat was unusually quiet—not even the buzz of the gaming system to be heard, or Phil murmuring to himself in front of his laptop.

Dan peeked into Phil’s room—empty. He clambered up to the office—nothing.

Dan ran a hand through his hair. “Helllooo? Phil, you home?” He could practically hear crickets.

He let out a breath. _Thank the gods_.

Dan turned on his heel, practically tripping over himself as he headed straight for the lounge. He pushed the door open rather roughly, threw himself on the couch, clenched his eyes shut, and…

Screamed.

Everything from the past couple days burst forth from his chest and the whole flat was filled with a piercing kind of moan. Dan couldn’t really describe it, but it felt good. So he kept going.

Everything was noise, it rang in his ears. He didn’t want to stop, because then he would have to start thinking again—thinking about how make excuses for eating breakfast alone in his room, about how he declined every one of Phil’s offers to watch any show or movie. He didn't want to think about the look of Phil’s face when Dan ran past him through their home, desperately trying to avoid eye contact or any physical touch or the way Dan forced himself to sit on the very edge of the couch. He didn't want to think about how he flinched away from every move Phil made to casually pat his arm or shoulder during gaming videos.

Dan turned himself onto his stomach and buried his face in the couch cushions. He screamed into the fluff and everything was muffled, except for in his head.

_Stop stop stop stop._

He felt like a child. It was like he had reverted into punishing himself, sending himself to his room to scream and cry and let it all out before he went back downstairs to apologize for whatever it was he had done. But how the hell could he apologize for this? Dan was sure that Phil wouldn’t take it well if he apologized for the circumstances. _Phil, I’m sorry I made out with you in your bed. I didn’t mean it. My bad._ He was truly a terrible friend.

And he was running out of air.

Dan opened his eyes and turned his head. He stared at the window, blinds shut and sun shining through the white fabric. He couldn’t be bothered to move. He didn’t know how.

Dan hadn’t had a moment to himself since the…incident. He and Phil had been constantly running around together—Radio Show, tour rehearsal, merch conferences, not to mention they had like, eighty million videos to plan and set up. He couldn’t escape Phil even if he had wanted to…and he really, really wanted to. Not even in his fucking sleep could he get rid of him; his dreams were all warm bodies and smiles and that funny feeling that constricted his chest and make him feel like crying and laughing at the same time…and then vomiting for how disgusting he was sounding, even in his own head. It was all his hands in Phil’s hair and his hands on Phil’s chest and…Phil’s own hands _everywhere_. And he felt so happy.

And then Dan’s eyes were shooting open, and he was breathing unevenly, frozen alone under the covers. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Dan was so done with unwelcome crises.

He sat up, hunched over his knees he rested his head in his hands. He didn’t want this to turn into some horrifying alternate universe where him and Phil just couldn’t be around each other anymore, where they discarded any evidence that they had once been friends.

He though back to last week, back to the busy street and that little girl. He thought back to that speeding car and the father that clutched his child to him. He thought of how his first instinct had been to reach for Phil, to hold any part of him, to know he was real and there and safe.

How ridiculously ironic that, Dan hadn’t even been comfortable holding hands in their home, but he was totally fine with almost going to third base in Phil’s bed. _What the fuck._

The flat was too small. He felt like screaming again, but he couldn’t scream forever. Besides, what if the neighbors heard and came to check on him? He could just imagine that conversation…

Dan gingerly got to his feet and walked to the hall where he had dumped his shoes and coat. He shut of the lights and traipsed down the bajillion stairs and out onto the street. November was unseasonably warm, but that meant he could walk longer without freezing his balls off. Yeah, walking would be good.

Dan set off down the street, not even bothering to look at his phone that he had left in his pocket.

**Phil Lester Missed Call**

**1 New Voicemail**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. It means a lot, and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter up. I'm still working on this, I swear! This one's short, I know, (and a tad weird) but I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Hope you're all having a good fall :)


	4. Chapter 4

All Phil had wanted to do was get out of the house. He knew Dan had gone, and the suffocating silence made him want to roll down the stairs and away. It wasn’t much different than when Dan was in the house, actually, but Phil needed a change of pace. A change of…anything.

And so here he was, standing on the very edge of the pavement looking up into the glowing neon-green sign of Bar Abilene.

But, Phil didn’t want this to turn into one of those situations where he has too much to drink, dances awkwardly with some sweaty people, and then drunk-calls Dan at the end of the night. Phil didn’t want to have to be drunk to actually express his feelings, what kind of person would that make him?

Phil thought  of Dan flinching every time Phil walked into a room, how Dan hasn’t filmed anything in weeks, and how, suddenly, all happiness and excitement about the book and tour seemed to drain away in place of anxiousness and confusion. Phil thought about _that_ night and how really, really good it felt. It was normal, almost, to be holding Dan like that—like stepping back through time or melting into a perfect memory.

Then, Phil thought of _that_ morning. He had woken up with actual Dan in his arms. And he was sleeping. And Phil was smiling.

And then the fucking post had come.

Dan had jolted so hard that he slammed himself into Phil, which hadn’t been the best move to make because any contact with that specific part of him would just escalate the situation. Dan flipped himself around, disconnecting Phil’s encirclement of his body, and had just stared. The buzzer sounded again and neither of them had broken the silence. Phil didn’t know if it was tension or fear that had made Dan go so rigid and unresponsive.

“Dan, the door—“and then Dan was up and speed walking out of Phil’s room.

Phil had sat up and reached for his glasses, jamming them onto his face before throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of his bed.

He heard a ripping sort of sound as he entered the lounge. He found Dan sat on the couch tearing open a box.

“Dan—“

“It’s the Star Wars collection I ordered. I figured that we—I should catch up and refresh my memory…” Dan was staring intently on the destroyed cardboard on his lap.

“Oh,” Phil had stood in the doorway, feeling like an absolute idiot. Had last night not actually happened? Was Dan playing some kind of joke? Phil felt a bit sick, and he staggered toward the couch to sit, but Dan immediately jumped up, clutching the packaged DVDs to his chest.

“I’m—I’m going to get dressed,” Dan shuffled toward the door. “And I need to call…Louise. And also we’re out of milk, so, I’ll be going out.”

“Okay,” Phil said slowly. He was sat on the edge of the couch cushion, looking up into Dan’s red and frantic face. “I’ll see you later then?” It came out as a question—a hope, if Phil was being truthful—and Dan had given a curt nod, not even looking at Phil, and left the room. This was what it had been like. Every. Single. Day. And as the week progressed, every day with Dan became even more unbearable than the last one.

Phil’s face was lighted in green as he takes a step toward the bar’s door. Maybe just one drink?

Phil shook his head, almost disgusted with himself that he could even possibly think that downing alcohol would be any sort of solution to his problems, that a shot or two could drag him bag out of the pit he had fallen into.

 _Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you big idiot._ Phil rubbed a hand over his face. He was so tired. _It’s just Dan. He’ll get over it—a phase is all it is. You’re friends, remember? He’ll come back._

Phil laughed darkly, and his shoulder shook a bit. Even if Dan came back, he’d want everything to be as it was before Phil had kissed him, held him. Dan would want to forget the feeling of their hands in each other’s hair and lips all over each other’s skin. Odd, wasn’t it, that Dan would want to forget, while Phil would probably spend every minute pining for it? Ugh.

Maybe, Phil could set up a bargain—hand holding as a payment for collabs? Phil suddenly remembered the day of the almost-murder, where the girl had been miraculously saved by her father. He remembered Dan’s hand in his, Dan not letting go.

Phil wanted to slap himself. _You are a grown-ass man. Get the fuck over it._

Why did he have to be so harsh in his head?

Phil straightened up and took two steps back. He needed a walk; some good old-fashioned exercise to get himself out of this funk.

* * *

 

40 minutes later, sweating and shaking a little, Phil found himself on a cold park bench with his phone in his hands. The glow of his screen engulfed him as he unlocked and tapped the telephone icon. Typing in Dan’s number before he lost his nerve, he held the phone up to his ear. The several people who walked past him on the pavement through the grass didn’t even give him a second look. He pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle a sound of distress that had pushed its way out of his chest. He could do this.

_“Hello you’ve reached Dan Howell. Can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a message after the beep. Thanks.”_

Okay. This was probably better than actually talking to Dan. Okay.

“Hey, Dan, it’s me, Phil. Uh, you obviously knew that by the caller ID or whatever but…yeah. Er, so I’m sitting here, in—where am I—Regent’s Park, and…okay so I know you don’t want to talk to me. Hell, you don’t even want to look at me. But, I—I do? Want you to look at me? I guess?”

Phil stood up and began pacing in front of the bench.

“What I’m saying is, this week has sucked, like, really, really sucked. I know why you’ve been avoiding me, and I… Jesus I just want…”

_Shit. Calm down, Phil._

“Dan, that night—ugh it sounds like a ridiculous romantic line, doesn’t it—that night was amazing—no pun intended…ha. Um, it was really nice. I think that…I think that we should do it more?”

Phil actually hit himself in the forehead.

“No! I mean, what I meant—fuck it.” Deep breath.

“Dan, Ireallylikeyouanthisissoweirdtosayoutloud.”

He closed his eyes and continued, “I don’t want this to be the thing that…ends us. We say it all the time, but, we’re best friends and this shouldn’t get in the way of that. And I know it’s confusing, heck I have no idea what to do. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or unhappy for that matter. Let’s figure this out. So, erm, bye, I guess.”

Phil clumsily ended the call, letting his hand drop to his side as he tilted his face upward. _That was ridiculous. And I’m probably going to regret it._

* * *

 

 _“Hey Dan, it’s me, Phil—“_ Dan yanked his phone away from his ear as if Phil had just been shouting at him, not talking calmly and quietly through his speaker.

Dan’s walk had taken a lot longer than he had thought. He’d finally gotten his mind to clear a bit. He found himself at Regent’s Park, and was happy to see that it was mostly deserted. Now, Dan stood at the edge of the grass, staring straight ahead at a figure slumped over on a park bench. No doubt in his mind that it was Phil—he knew shitty posture anywhere.

It was late, and Dan had taken his phone out to look at the time. The call from Phil was over two hours ago. Had he been sitting here for that long? Christ. And Dan thought he was the one prone to over-the-top breakdowns.

But this wasn’t really over-the-top, now, was it?

It was perfectly legit for Phil to be reacting the way he was. Phil went out to seek sanctuary, while Dan sought a good place to scream his head off.

Dan was walking across the grass now. He put the phone back up to his ear, replaying the message. Phil on the phone sounded tense and shaky, while Phil on the bench just looked defeated. Wait—was he asleep?

  _“What I’m saying is, this week has sucked, like, really, really sucked. I know why you’ve been avoiding me, and I… Jesus I just want…”_

Dan had reached the bench now and saw that Phil actually was asleep, light snores emitted from his friend’s mouth. His jacket collar was pulled up around his chin, his arms tucked in and his legs were splayed out on the pavement in front of him.

Dan smiled, and suddenly he was reaching out to push Phil’s fringe out of his eyes.

_“Dan, Ireallylikeyouanthisissoweirdtosayoutloud.”_

Dan dropped his hand as if he’d been burned.

 _“I don’t want this to be the thing that…ends us…”_ Oh my god.

“Oh, Phil.” Dan whispered as Phil’s voice continued on in his ear.

_“Let’s figure this out. So, erm, bye, I guess.”_

Dan sank, now sitting next to his snoring friend on the bench. What the hell was he going to do now?

Dan just sat. For 10 minutes, he stared straight ahead, not moving, not thinking. He then turned his head ever so slightly to see Phil, face relaxed, mouth open slightly, breathing regular and deep. His hair was mussed where Dan had put his fingers through it; his checks were slightly pink from the dropping temperature. This wasn’t like the point in some Rom Com where Dan was seeing Phil in “a new light” because this was just Phil. Dan had seen Phil asleep countless times, he had even drug Phil into bed once, as there was only so much _Buffy_ he would allow his friend to watch until four in the morning.

There was Phil, asleep on a park bench for fuck’s sake. And there was Dan. All emotion and realization and…was that happiness?

Phil shifted. His right arm was falling out of its tucked position. Dan watched as it slid oh-so-slowly down Phil’s space coat, making that weird static-like noise, and landed with a soft clunk on the seat of the bench.

Two seconds passed.

Dan slid his hand over Phil’s. He felt the cold tips of Phil’s fingers and the roughness of the tops of his knuckles. Dan turned his friend’s hand over and lightly traced the longest line on Phil’s palm. This was so strange…but good, too.

And Dan interlocked his fingers with Phil’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> I know, I know. I'm late. Sorry about that...But it's here now!  
> Hope this chapter is somewhat satisfactory. It may feel a bit rushed, but that's only because I'm in a bit of a block. I promise for some fluff-ier things and maybe some more...ahem...steamy (?) stuff in the next chapter so look forward to that?
> 
> Oi vey.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? An update just a couple days after the last? What's this about???  
> Procrastination and a general laziness regarding the rest of my life, that's what.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the massive amount of fluff that I'm about to dump over your heads. 
> 
> What is my life? I have no idea?? Enough stalling--here's the update.
> 
> *Feedback is always appreciated :)

Phil woke to find that the feeling in his right hand was gone—someone was squeezing the shit out of it.

“Umm,” Phil opened his eyes very slowly in case of murder.

“Hey,” came the very monotone sound of a very familiar voice

Dan was gripping Phil’s hand in his lap at a very awkward angle. The hood of Dan’s jacket was hanging slightly off of the back of his head, and he was looking right at Phil.

Having been deprived of his friend’s gaze for nearly two weeks, Phil didn’t have any idea what to say. Cue random brain:

“Do I qualify as a bum now? I fell asleep on a park bench,” Phil straightened up, yawning and pushing his fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. He didn’t dare flex his other fingers; for fear that Dan might jump away like a tiny animal at the slightest disturbance. His breath came out somewhat shakily, a side effect of the internal shakiness he felt from keeping his emotions in.

“I feel like shit,” Phil, unable to pull his right arm away from Dan, was forced to sit awkwardly at a diagonal along the seat of the bench. He looked sleepily at Dan, who, after a moment, dropped his gaze.

“You didn’t…do anything, did you?” Dan spoke to Phil’s hand in his lap.

“What?” Momentarily confused, Phil stiffened. Then, remembering his very sober decision to walk to the park and camp out on a bench, he laughed weakly.

 “Dan, you really think I’d be able to have this kind of coherent conversation with you if I was immensely drunk? Or even high?” Dan didn’t respond to attempt to lighten the problematic circumstances. He sighed, trying a different approach—better to not beat around the bush (why was that even a saying?). “How did you find me, anyway?”

Dan shrugged and turned his face away to stare down the deserted park path from which he had come. “A complete accident, really. I went for a walk,” Dan frowned. “Kind of odd, isn’t it?

“Hmm?”

“It’s odd… we both just happened to go for a walk and end up at the same place, the exact same part of this giant-ass park on this specific bench…”

Now Phil frowned, “But…I called you. I left you a message.”

“I literally just listened to it—like 2 seconds before I found you,” Dan turned back to look at Phil, questioning. “It’s just…weird, is all.”

The only thing Phil found odd was the fact that Dan still hadn’t let go of his hand. And Dan had listened to the message. And he still hadn’t run away or yelled in Phil’s face or declared is undying love for him yet. Whatever the situation was, it still hadn’t happened.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“You—you listened to my message?” Phil felt heat travel up his neck to his ears.

“Yeah,” Dan was so nonchalant. This wasn’t a normal response to the unrequited blubbering of Phil.

Phil tensed, as unbidden to his mind came a very dramatic scene of himself punching Dan in the throat, screaming at him to say something—anything. But Dan just took the hits, until Phil decided to launch himself at his friend, pressing their faces together in a very extravagant kiss.

This was too much for Phil. He blinked, affronted by his own imagination. He began to grapple with his brain for something to say—for how to continue.

Dan let out long breath, Phil could see it in the cooling air. He took it all in—Dan, sat hunched over his knees, face inches away from Phil’s, his hand still clutched in his own.

Phil was suddenly struck by the intimacy of it all. Was Dan doing this on purpose? There was clearly something going on in his head that he wasn’t allowing Phil to hear? Something that would either break him or send him jumping sky-high from the rush of it all? Phil was sure those were the only two options—but how to find out?

_Oh shit._

_Bingo._

 

Phil’s thoughts had turned semi-ballistic. He was cracked, absolutely insane to think that this would work, but he was willing to try.

“Dan?”

“What, Phil?”

“Would you…would you mind standing up for a sec?” Phil willed himself to keep calm, to give in to whatever batshit crazy thing was happening in his head right now.

Dan straightened up a little, a question lingering in his body language. The pressure on Phil’s hand lessened slightly.

“Why?” Dan asked, a hint of that old playfulness in his voice that he sometimes got during gaming videos when Phil was making a questionable decision. Phil could just hear the cautious sound of “ _Phillll…?”_ in his head.

“I have an idea,” Phil moved to stand. Steeling his brain, ready to take action, he pushed himself off the bench with his left hand. Dan followed suit, his hand still clasping Phil’s right, eyebrows smushed together in an endearing sort of way. Phil resisted the urge to smack himself.

“I’m trusting you with my life right now, you know. If you’re going to do something crazy, I’m gonna have to be witness to it, and then when we go to court, I’ll have to testify and tell everyone the absolute truth and—“

“Dan,” Phil smirked. “Chill.”

Dan let out a little huff, then motioned for Phil to continue with whatever the hell he was doing.

“You listened to my message?” Phil asked again, more for confirmation.

“Well, yeah, I already told—”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Because you need to have listened—“

“Yes, Phil! I listened to all of it.” Phil could tell Dan was getting more annoyed, but Phil really didn’t care at this point. It was Dan who had sat down next to him, decided to stay, not Phil. Phil just needed to know some things, clarify some things.

He decided to be blunt, “I kissed you. Last week.”

Dan’s eyes blew wide for a moment, “Uh, yeah. You did.”

“And you kissed me.” Phil was speaking slowly, as if to a child.

“Phil where the fuck is this going? I’m pretty sure we’re both fairly up to date on what happened,” Dan’s voice was rising in volume and in octaves.

“Yeah, but…I just need to know something,” Phil took a small step forward. Dan didn’t move. This was working…maybe.

“I need to kiss you again.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “Phil—“

“I just need to know—“

“Know what?” Dan’s voice softened.

“If it means something.”

Dan took a giant step back from Phil. He turned around. Then he turned back. Then he stepped forward again, centimeters from making full-on contact.

Phil was frozen in place himself, pretty sure he had just witnessed a condensed version of a crisis.

“Okay,” Dan spoke, incredibly controlled.

“Okay?” Phil was slightly taken aback; he’d expected…well, he hadn’t really expected anything.

“Okay. Kiss me,”

Phil’s mouth just about dropped open in shock.

Dan raised an eyebrow, extremely amused. Now Phil really did want to punch him in the throat.

“Are—are you sure?”

“Jesus on a plane, Phil. Do it.”

“Okay.”

Phil didn’t move, though. He was giving his brain, which seemed to be moving through thick molasses, a chance to catch up. Finally, he got his voice to come out in something other than a squeak.

“First, can I—can I touch you?” It came out as a very hoarse whisper, and Phil internally cursed himself. What happened to being confident?

Dan’s eyes widened slightly, but he gave a small nod. Phil took a very small step toward Dan. He brought his hands up and placed them on Dan’s chest. His right hand pressed just over Dan’s heart. He felt Dan suck in a slow breath.

“Erm, you can close your eyes if you want? I know this is strange…” Phil’s gaze dropped down to his hands on Dan’s chest, and made himself ease up on the weight he was putting into it. Then, he looked up at Dan, expecting a grimace, a cringe, anything but Dan’s own eyes staring intently into his, centimeters away.  

“Hi,” It was the silliest thing Phil thought could have possibly said in that moment.

"Hi,” Dan’s mouth curved in a small smile. His warm breath flitted across Phil’s nose. He shivered.

“Again, you can totally back out if—“

“Phil, we’ve already rolled around in your bed. This is like…retrograde or something,” Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his weight so that one knee sort of bent under him and his hip cocked. _Sassy Dan._

Dan continued, “We’ve already done the crazy stuff—“ and he coughed meaningfully, as if images of actual “crazy stuff” had just been brought to mind.

Phil just about choked, and Dan smiled his normal, bright smile this time.

And then he brought his arms around Phil’s back, under his arms, tentatively pulling Phil just the smallest bit closer.

 _Stay with it, Phil_. Ah, back was his inner monologue.

Phil’s heart was beating so fast and lightheadedness was definitely happening and what if he swayed so much that he ruined the moment and everything came crashing down—

“Okay. I—I’m going to do it now,” Phil began to lean in, bending his arms as Dan tightened his grasp.

“Okay.”

“You ready?” Phil tilted his head upward just slightly.

“Phil—“

“Because I don’t want this to be weird--“

“Phil—“

“Because it would suck if this…sucked.” Well, that was one way to put it.

Dan sighed, almost exasperatedly and pulled back a bit. “Phil, we’ve made out _half asleep_ for god’s sake. And it was enjoyable. Like, fifty thousand times the meaning of enjoyable. Best thing we’ve ever done…” The last bit came out as mumble.

Now, Phil pulled back, head spinning. His brow furrowed.

“More enjoyable? What does that mean? And as far as “best things” go—does that mean discounting everything else? Like movie nights? "Phil is not on fire’s"? Writing a book?!” Phil was staring at Dan, no longer entranced, but a bit hurt. How could a single sleep-induced moment mean more than six years?

“No! That’s not what I meant. Jesus.” Dan disconnected himself entirely now, and Phil felt the loss of contact like he had been splashed with cold water, all over his body. Dan tugged a hand through his hair.

“No, I just meant that it was really good, Phil. Like, it was basically normal. All those things that we do together—we have fun, right? That’s-that’s like our thing. And, well, it was just like…that night was our thing, too…but different and…” Dan crossed his arms in front of his chest where Phil’s hands had previously been resting. “It was really good.” Dan finally broke Phil’s gaze, cheeks reddening.

“Oh.”

And then Phil’s mouth collided with Dan’s and Dan stumbled back and hit the back of his knees against the edge of the bench. His legs folded and he was sitting, backing hitting hard on the metal as Phil toppled above him. Dan’s right had reached out to steady himself, keeping him from falling sideways, and Phil’s arms went out in front of him to grasp the bench behind Dan’s head as he was forced to sit, and he ended up with either leg on the sides of Dan’s—straddling him.

Phil looked wildly down into Dan’s eyes. Phil’s whole face screamed regret as he attempted to push himself off and back.

“I’m so sorry—Oh my god—I didn’t mean—“ Phil scrambled to stand, but his limbs just weren’t cooperating. He was sat in Dan’s lap.

This was not supposed to happen.

Horrified and humiliated at his failed attempts at reconciling with his best friend (and trying to resolve some pent-up tensions in the process) Phil let his head fall forward onto Dan’s shoulder. Going limp, Phil let out the longest sigh in human existence.

And then Dan was laughing.

Phil felt his body shaking under him. He mumbled, dazed and confused, into Dan’s shoulder, “Dan what are you doing?”

“It’s just—“ Dan brought his hands to Phil’s hips, resting them there as Phil drew back to meet his eyes.

“You’re such a dork.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO over a month. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. Well, it's up now anyhow. Go on, have a read ;)

 

Dan knew it was too early because the sun was shining right in his face.

The sun only streamed into his room like this when he forgot to close the blinds, and that was usually after a long night (or early morning) where Dan had simply been too exhausted to even bother with the windows.

Dan’s eyes scrunched up tight against the unwelcome brightness. He let out a short huff and attempted to roll away from the horrid daylight. As he flipped to his side, his elbow collided with something soft and fairly squishy.

“GAH—Dan!” A gasp of pain and a jolt forced Dan to open his eyes.

Phil was hunched slightly in a fetal position, head disappearing halfway under the duvet as he messaged his stomach.

“I… sorry Phil…” Dan yawned, stretching his arms up, arching his back. “S’bad?”

“No, no it’s fine,” Phil’s head emerged; fringe sticking up all over the place and eyes glazed over, Dan felt s swooping sensation in his stomach.

“What?” Phil stared at Dan whose arms were slowly coming to rest at his sides on top of the covers, his eyes glued to Phil’s disheveled morning form. Phil smirked at Dan’s obvious staring, which prompted Dan to scowl and shove the covers off both of them. Phil yelped.

Dan leaned down to pick up a sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it over his head.

“Nothing. You just look like an electrocuted hedgehog, is all,” Dan’s voice was muffled through the fabric.

Phil let out a bark of a laugh as Dan shuffled out of the room.

“And good morning to you, too!”

* * *

 

The bed sharing thing had only started a couple of weeks ago. After the recently dubbed “Bench of Shame” incident, the Dan and Phil House had seen fairly few changes to its routine and for that, both flatmates were thankful.

Dan took the lack of change as a kind of sign that their relationship didn’t need that much “improving” because, besides the new sleeping arrangements, they were just as comfortable with each other as before. Dan tried not to think about the fact that maybe he should have been more aware of their overt domesticity. To them, it was normal—to viewers, it was something entirely different, something a bit more branded.

But he tried not to get dragged down into this spiral too often.

Phil was relieved, to say the least. For one, neither of them had run off screaming yet, and both of them were slowly getting used to a semi-new… _air_ about their interactions.

Phil was now allowed to brush his hands over Dan’s shoulders while Dan was fixing something in the kitchen. He was now allowed to plant light kisses on the top of Dan’s head during his late nights of editing or gaming or whatever. Phil was allowed to hold his gaze comfortably for minutes on end, not having to worry if he did something wrong.

It was just like always, only with the added happiness perks that came much more often with little touches and laughs and eye rolls. Phil decided that if their flat was to have an aura, it would be bathed in something like a sunset, all oranges and picks and whites.

Dan gagged a bit when Phil mentioned this certain spectrum of color. “Really, Phil? An aura?

“Well, I mean…” Phil waved his hands around meaninglessly as Dan poured him a coffee.

“How much are you willing to become Professor Trelawney this morning?” Dan shook his head and reached above for the sugar, dropping two spoonfuls into Phil’s mug and handing it over.

“I think we can have at least one conversation without bringing Harry Potter into it, don’t you?” Phil sighed, though he was not really upset. “Besides, she was a highly under appreciated character…” he muttered as he brought the warm cup to his lips.

“What?!”

And this was always how their mornings would go—even before certain realizations.

* * *

“Hey.”

Phil looked away from his tripod, hands now still over the leg-adjuster knobs. Dan stood in the doorway, keys in hand.

“Whassup?” Phil turned back to the tripod. He needed to film today, it had been weeks since a main channel video, and people were getting anxious (including himself).

“It’s cold.”

“So?” Phil reached over to his bedside table to retrieve his camera, placing it precariously on the little platform and screwing it in.

“So…I’m cold. And I don’t want to leave the flat,” Dan’s voice was taking on a whiny connotation. Phil forced the smile out of his voice.

“Okay,” he said nonchalantly, deliberately not looking toward the door.

“But we need cereal.”

“Okay."

"Phillllllll, I don’t want to go.”

“Fine.” Phil played with the focus on the camera.

Dan was getting tired of this game. But he had been the one to start it, so…

“Phil!” Dan’s voice lost its drawn-out edge; he sounded more irate than anything.

“What?” Phil kept his voice calm and void of shakiness from laughter that was threatening to bubble over from Dan’s childishness.

“I don’t want to go!” Phil thought that if Dan were five, he would be _this_ close from stamping his foot.

Phil stopped and finally looked up Dan, slouching on the door frame, mouth formed into a pout and arms crossed.  He knew he could start a real argument my declaring that Dan was an adult and should act like one, but he didn’t really feel that way. His friend looked too…cute; annoying, but cute.

Phil pushed himself off his bed, nearly catching the tripod with his foot and stumbled over to Dan. “Don’t go, then.” He reached his arm out to his still-pouty man-child, and opened his hand. Dan smiled triumphantly; obviously this is what he had been soliciting for the entire time.

Phil dragged him over to the bed and where they sat side-by-side. Dan patiently waited for Phil to alter the camera to his liking, and then they were filming.

“Hey guys! So I know it’s been a while—“

“Yeah, like three weeks—“

“No. You can’t talk, Sir “I Haven’t Put Anything Up In A Month And Five Days.”

“You’ve been counting that specifically?”

“I’ve made it my job to keep tabs on you. It’s a great power, being the oldest of the house. And of course, with great power—“

“Shut up.”

* * *

 

Phil was taking up the entire couch.

This was not okay.

In situations like this, Dan knew exactly what measures to take—which were often beneficial for the both of them.

Dan set the popcorn down on the table and strode over to the lounging Phil.

“You gonna move?”

“Nope,” Phil looked up into Dan’s face, eyes crinkling.

“Move,” Dan nudged Phil’s foot with his hand.

“Make me.”

Dan bent down and pressed his lips into Phil’s. Phil’s hands came to rest on Dan’s shoulders, his feet sliding at once off of the opposite couch arm. Dan smiled into Phil’s mouth.

“Thanks,” Dan moved to pull up and away so that he could equally enjoy the film, but Phil caught his hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Can I have a hug?” Phil said so quietly Dan almost didn’t hear him.

“What?” he was almost incredulous.

“A hug,” Phil said slightly louder. His stupidly soul-boring eyes met Dan’s confused ones. He melted.

“Stand up, then.”

“Phil got to his feet immediately. Dan wrapped his arms under Phil’s and pulled him flush against his chest. Phil let his head fall into the crook of Dan’s neck and closed his eyes. The two breathed steadily for a moment, letting everything just sort of melt around them—the noise of the TV and the cars and the neighbor’s music faded smoothly into nothingness.

Then Phil pulled back, hands brushing down Dan’s arms as he smiled slightly up at him.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Dan shivered, caught in the strange moment. He felt suspended, floating on nothingness. And then there was Phil. What a ball of cheese.

“I really like you,” Phil’s tongue poked out from the side of his mouth and Dan was suddenly thrown back to the image of a computer screen with Skype pulled up and full of chunky pixels.

“I really like you, too.”

Dan decided that kissing was one of the best additions to their not-so-new relationship routine. Phil’s lips were ridiculously soft and his hands were too comfortable when they were running through his hair and Dan was too happy. Dan’s hands slid slowly over Phil, almost as if he were measuring every line from the shoulders and the collar bone to the scapula and down to the hips.

Their mouths parted and slid together, their limbs tangled up and their breathing grew deeper. Suddenly, Phil pulled away and planted the smallest of kisses on the tip of Dan’s nose and Dan laughed shortly, lost in the silliness of it all.

“So,” Phil slung an arm around Dan’s shoulders, and planted another kiss on his cheek. Dan blushed furiously. “Mind if I choose the film for tomorrow?”

“What? Are mine so boring that we have to resort to snogging in order to keep ourselves entertained for the night?” Dan slumped onto the sofa, bringing his knees up onto the cushions and rested his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“I mean, yeah,” Phil gestured toward the screen. “Especially if it’s _Shrek_ …”

“Don’t you dare go off on Shrek.”

“You’re going through a phase, Dan.”

“Well, excuse me for appreciating fine entertainment!”

“No.”

“What?”

“Just…no.”

 

It was 3 a.m. before they fell asleep. Clearly, Fate had seen it coming; No need to stop early morning habits just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! The end! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the AMAZING feedback and encouragement and all that. I so appreciate it. 
> 
> See you around :)


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